GOT7 As Roommates

So I was reminded of the one I did for BTS (which you could find here) and I thought this would be a cute thing to do <3

(gif credits to the original owners)


Originally posted by magiccastles

(hot ass)

  • he strikes me as a dad type
  • like he’ll be kinda protective of you, making sure you don’t stay out too late and come home at the right time.
  • he’ll say that it’s to keep a watch on you but he lowkey misses you.
  • typical dad always ends up falling asleep on the sofa.
  • so you always have to shake him to get him to actually go to bed.
  • you’ll feel really awkward when you accidentally call him dad bc he basically is
  • “is this a new fetish or something?”
    “shut up im jaebum”
  • also just another gross male that you have to deal with.
  • “leader of got7 or president of the US i don’t care, just wash the dishes”
  • people often mistake him for your boyfriend bc you guys are weirdly comfortable around him.
  • he’ll probably just walk around half naked with no shame
  • you’ll just throw his dirty laundry to get him to put clothes on.
  • does get a lil’ awkward if you’re ever upset.
  • will shyly admit he ordered take out to cheer you up and you chill for the rest of the evening.
  • he’ll get quite angry if someone has upset you or work is giving you a hard time but won’t show it.
  • since he’s a dad for thot7 as well, just expect the guys to often be over.
  • reliable dad friend roommate beom ™
  • you always make him cringe or make fun (in a friendly way okay)
  • you’ll be over sitting in a weird position on the sofa you’ll just be like “the a teaser, amirite” and poor boy would die of cringe.
  • with that weird dinosaur laugh he has

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Moonstruck: Chapter 4

Originally posted by jungkook-gifs

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Genre: fluff with some angst (Jungkook x OC)

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends for as long as you can remember. But when he starts acting strange, you begin to fear the worst. You hope that tagging along with him and his family for their annual summer trip might bring him out of his slump, but things quickly get messy as you start to question where both of you stand in your relationship

FIRST AND FOREMOST I WANT TO THANK TWO LOVELY PEOPLE @boymeetsfiction​​ and @taeklings​​ for supporting this story so damn hard like seriously thank you

Later that night you find yourself tossing around in bed. Dreams of massive, churning waves and deep, dark waters leave you a shaking mess. You startle awake in a cold sweat, mistaking it for the cool touch of the ocean outside your window. After taking some deep breaths, you manage to peel yourself from the now damp mattress, sitting with your legs hanging over the edge.

The clock resting on the table beside your bed reads 3:03 AM. You rub your stinging eyes and place your feet on the floor, forcing yourself up to a standing position. You try to keep quiet so you don’t wake anyone, especially Jungkook’s parents, but you can’t prevent the soft slap of your feet as you trudge down the stairs.

You reach the kitchen and open one of the cabinets, searching for a glass. When you find one, you glance at the sink faucet and cringe, instead going into the fridge to pull out the milk. Your mom always told you that warm milk was best for troubled sleeping. You pour a cup and open the microwave, setting the time for a few seconds. Still conscious of the other occupants of the house, you wait until the last second on the timer, quickly stopping it before the timer hits zero and sets off the alarm. You open the microwave door and tap a finger again the warm glass to see if it need to cool. Deciding it’s safe, you slide out the cup and softly shut the door again.

You stand there for a minute, leaning your elbows against the counter and sipping the drink. You’re still a little shaken from your nightmare, but the warmth gliding down your throat and settling in your belly acts as a small relief.

You sigh, trying to distract yourself from the unease in the back of your head by tracing the rim of your glass with an index finger. It’s impossible to deny the fact that part of the restlessness is due to the events from yesterday. You recognized the way he looked at you in the water. You were beginning to recall every touch and lasting glance from Jungkook. How you used to brush them off as a casual exchange between friends. But now you were beginning to see them as something a little more.

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“I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.” ― Jean Cocteau

I wasn’t quite ready yet for goodbyes, though, and stepped into the wood to pull myself together. The grass was long beside the trail, soft and feathery against the hem of my weighted skirts. Something heavier than grass brushed them, and I looked down to see Adso. I’d been looking for him most of yesterday; typical of him to show up at the last minute.

 “So there you are,” I said, accusing. He looked at me with his huge calm eyes of celadon green, and licked a paw. On impulse, I scooped him up and held him against me, feeling the rumble of his purr and the soft, thick fur of his silvery belly. He’d be all right; I knew that. The woods were his private game preserve, and Amy Higgins liked him and had promised me to see him right for milk and a warm spot by the fire in bad weather. I knew that.

 “Go on, then,” I said, and set him on the ground. He stood for a moment, tail waving slowly, head raised in search of food or interesting smells, then stepped into the grass and vanished.

 I bent, very slowly, arms crossed, and shook, weeping silently, violently. I cried until my throat hurt and I couldn’t breathe, then sat in the grass, curled into myself like a dried leaf, tears that I couldn’t stop dropping on my knees like the first fat drops of a coming storm. Oh, God. It was only the beginning. 

I rubbed my hands hard over my eyes, smearing the wetness, trying to scrub away grief. A soft cloth touched my face, and I looked up, sniffing, to find Jamie kneeling in front of me, handkerchief in hand.

 “I’m sorry,” he said, very softly. “It’s not—don’t worry, I’m … He’s only a cat,” I said, and a small fresh grief tightened like a band round my chest.

-An Echo In The Bone 

 “Come along, Roddy, you can be first to tell your mam that Himself and his lady have come back!”

Jamie took my hand and squeezed it hard. He was flushed from the walk, and even more from excitement; the color ran right down into the open neck of his shirt, turning his skin a beautiful rosy bronze.

“I’ve brought ye home, Sassenach,” he said, his voice a little husky. “It willna be the same—and I canna say how things will be now—but I’ve kept my word.”

My throat was so choked that I could barely whisper “Thank you.” We stood for a long moment, clasped tight together, summoning up the strength to go around that last corner and look at what had been, and what might be.
Something brushed the hem of my skirt, and I looked down, expecting that a late cone from the big spruce we were standing by had fallen.

A large gray cat looked up at me with big, calm eyes of celadon green and dropped a fat, hairy, very dead wood rat at my feet.

“Oh, God!” I said, and burst into tears.

-Written In My Own Heart’s Blood

Protégé [Part 4] (M)

Originally posted by jjks

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3]

Warnings: Rough smut, Fem!Dom, scar mention

Words: 7,288

Lie back.” You instructed, your voice soft but stern.

Jungkook listened, he lowered himself onto the surface of your desk, the movement causing the hem of his shirt to ride up only slightly. When the sliver of bare skin met the cool, varnished surface of the wood, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Ready?” You asked, fighting the urge to smile down at him as he stared up at you with rounded eyes, nervousness swimming in the brown irises.


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The Cold-Hearted Thief ~ Chapter 4

BOO!  I know you weren’t expecting this episode out this early, but I couldn’t help myself.  Here’s Chapter 4, earlier than normal!  Enjoy :)

“So, how’s it been up north here in Kaer Morhen?” Geralt asked curiously.

“Same as usual, these days.  Winter’s been cold – we’ve struggled.”  Yennefer explained.  They were heading into a large, open room filled with an ambient atmosphere and noticeable echoes.  The flames of torches danced in the darkness like a spot of milk in black coffee. Heavy footsteps filled the emptiness as Yennefer, Eskel, Lambert and Geralt entered.  The Grand Hall.

“Geralt, why don’t you go down to the food hall with Lambert?  You haven’t eaten in ages.”  He reluctantly agreed.  They both headed through various winding pathways to get to their destination.  As Geralt headed down the narrow, streamlined corridors, he touched the ancient stone that occupied the castle’s walls and structures; a merciless cold that knifed his fingertips like tiny ninjas that lined up obediently in rows.  They reached another room which was decorated and padded with multiple tools and furniture. There were racks of weaponry that lined the left wall like soldiers ready for war, followed by a door which led to the garden of Kaer Morhen.  The swords winked sparks from time to time, shining in pristine condition.  The two Witchers made their way to the buffet. Juicy vegetables and flawless bits of meat lie on the table gloriously, dressed up as if they were to be viewed rather than eaten.  Lambert began to pluck items and dumped them onto his plate to be recklessly devoured in a surprisingly short amount of time.  Geralt held back cautiously.

“It feels like years since I last ate.” Lambert explained. He started to run on lines for hours – talking more than eating.  After a while, he forgot Geralt was in the room with him.  He turned to quench his curiosity…  Geralt stood there, almost lifeless.  Lambert became aware at his strange posture.  As he looked closer, he realised that the White Wolf’s eyes had because a solid black – absorbing all light.  Lambert’s breaths shortened and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. Geralt shook, his body limp. “Geralt?” he questioned, hoping for a response.  Geralt’s voice became distorted.  Lambert wasn’t even sure if it was Geralt anymore.  The voice became gravely and barren; cold.  Geralt drew his sword and started swinging at Lambert; thoughtless and out-of-control behaviour.  It was as if something had possessed him with severity.  Lambert deflected his blows as immediate defence, then fled back through the maze of the castle – locking the bolts and hatches to delay the soulless villain from catching up to him.  He heard clashes from the rooms he was in only a few seconds ago.  Adrenaline boosted Lambert further.

Yennefer and Eskel were interrupted by the dashing of Lambert.  He tried to explain to them what had happened over his heavy breathing from running.

“I feared that this would happen…”  Yennefer elucidated.  “Follow me.”  She led the way, whilst the other two Witchers pursued.  They carefully headed towards the library, watching around corners for the threat that followed.  They questioned Yen what they were planning to do, but she kept things quite vague. As they entered, Yennefer started frantically searching through pages and pages of books.  The library was large and deep with boring tomes.  The Witchers would’ve preferred to justify history with a sword, not a pen.  The lengthy amount of time that she took researching filled them with dread.  The unknown confusion about Geralt’s demeanour took an unnerving twist in the matter.  After dead silence, they heard pounding knocks on the dense wooden door at the far end of the library.  Hard forces smashed the silence and challenged the locks and hinges.  It found them.

“We have to move!” Lambert identified.

“I’ll hold the door…”  Eskel started, but no resistive force was strong enough – Geralt burst through the aperture and grabbed Eskel by the throat.  The other two stood, unable to move – glued by the fear. Geralt’s lifeless body penetrated Eskel’s stomach with strong forces, ripping the innards and burning them to ash – his eyes had the essence drained out of him as his body uncontrollably fastened to the floor.  He became still.

The remaining two, Yen and Lambert darted across corners of bookshelves, trying to escape the wrath of the White Wolf.  Lambert tugged at a shelf which was weighed down with books. It fell with force and prevented the pursuing Witcher from keeping on their tail.  Ironically, the books were now being used for physical protection. Knowledge now really does mean power! Both hearts raced as they swiftly headed down the infrastructure of Kaer Morhen, with a monstrous entity mindlessly following.

“We need to get to the astronomy tower.” Yennefer shakily expressed.  “There’s a shortcut through the cellar.”  Lambert agreed, looking over his shoulder frequently to fulfil the doubt he had, nagging in his mind.  They descended down stairs into the confined spaces of the cellar.  Walls, ale barrels and the significant lack of light blurred and block their vision, decreasing their awareness and perception.  Down into the blackout they went; they could hear their own fast heartbeat as their anxiety crept up within them.  The only noise they could hear was the dripping of nearby splashes of water.  Dripping and dropping far in the distance.  Each one ten times slower than the beats in their throats.  Sometime later, Yennefer turned to view Lambert. “Up here,” she indicated as she reached the stairs.  Moments passed.  A sudden screech was heard in the darkness, but before Lambert had enough time to react, his entire body had gone limp and senses had gone numb.  It seemed the demon had consumed him.  Yennefer watched in terror as The White Wolf slid his sword calmly around Lambert’s throat in a single movement, and dropped the corpse with no deviations.  Yen witnessed Geralt’s raw unfeeling smile saw through her panic.  She retreated desperately up the spiral staircase – which should’ve lead to the astronomy laboratory.  Geralt walked in binary, no emotion shining through the strides that narrowly chased her.  Hours seemed to pass as the steps became increasingly difficult to climb.  The stairwells winded like the inside of a clock, ticking mechanically, without soul or thought.

Yennefer and Geralt reached the top.  They faced each other.  “Stop!” Yennefer exclaimed.  Geralt obeyed.  They stood symmetrically on the other sides of the spherical room.  Equally in the centre, there was a vibrant pedestal which she glared at.  Geralt also saw the significance and he adapted to her movements and strafes – ready to combat any unexpected fluctuations which may have appeared.  The important looking structures glared down at the two as they stood – psychologically battling each other – emphasising their preposterous superiority.

“I know you’re not… you, but you need to listen to me, Geralt.”  His head twitched.  “You need to wake up.”  She continued to persist.  Silence. It was as if they parried each other’s thoughts – staying neutral, with no one with a visible advantage.  The Witcher seemed to mirror her movements. Then, she dived for it.  Both reached for the pedestal in the middle. Blank static choked the room – ringing overwhelmed the area.  Nothing.

Geralt awoke from the terror.  His head burned like acid consumed it.  He woke up in the inn bed sweating from the dream he had almost witnessed.  His distress filled his body and it took seconds to fully recover.  He looked around the room.  Back in reality, finally, he thought.  However, his heart skipped a beat when he smelled a burning sensation.  He was confused as he couldn’t see any fire in the inn he was currently in.  After he heard the blood-curdling screams coming from outside the thin walls and thatched roof, he came towards realisation. In a rising panic, he burst through the door into the freezing night air.  The town of Hankala was on fire.

This story is based off The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt.  Please let me know if you enjoy this by following my blog. If you have any feedback please comment.  If I find out people enjoy this kind of stuff, I may continue the story.  I’m literally just starting out so I would really appreciate it if you reblogged so I can get more recognition.  Thanks!

What Would Make Seventeen Cry

~I found it hard to find 3 for each member so most members have less. Hopefully this is enough~


- Having to eat a lemon
- Jeonghan’s lip bites
- Nicki Minaj’s booty


- When S.Coups said he wasn’t the member he would date as a girl
- When he is unable to choose between banana and strawberry milk


- Spotting Jeongcheol in action across the room
- When he sees all the Jisoos Christ shit we post on tumblr


- When The8 held his hand for the first time
- Hearing The8 x Hoshi shippers chant
Soonhao at a live concert


- Dino trying to act sexy and suceeding
- When we didn’t end up getting called Mounteen


- When he drops his cheeseburger on the floor
- When a fan tells him she doesnt ship Meanie


- Pressure from being the producer of the group
- Meeting his parents


- Seeing his female crush engulf him in her beautiful scent
- Not feeling like he is a good enough main vocal


- Not being able to eat what he wants


- Watching Junhui be naturally sexy in Untouchable


- Talking about his mum
- Vernon’s nasty singing


- Realising he’s a living meme
- When people keep bringing up his childhood cringyness


- Turning 50 yrs old but still being called Jeonghan’s baby
- Getting Michael Jackson merch from the members for his birthday

~Admin Annie

I have a strange variety in favourite animals:

  • I love Vultures! (Condors most, TOP FAVE!!) Cute big birdies! Lots of good little cleaners who eat dead things so we don’t have to see them! Cute bald heads! Condors mate for life! ADORABLE FUZZ BABIES!!
  • I love Elephants! BIG EARS!! Cute trunks and trumpet noises! They’re so cute and they can wave to you! Lots of big herds! Cute cute cute! 
  • I love Cows! Cute moos! Sometimes fuzzy! And they make milk!! Some have spots! 
Winchester brothers- First priority

Title: First Priority

Pairings: Winchester brothers x sister

Word count:1000

Summary: Back when the boys were with their dad, taking care of their little sister when he wouldn’t.

‘’Bubby’’You whimpered, pushing open the large dirty door and shuffling in. You clutched your ruffled bear to your tiny frame as you stared at you older brother sleeping. 

He stirred, feeling someone’s presence as he tensed. His hand slid under his pillow, grasping something as he quickly shot up. His brows furrowed when he saw it was you and quickly shoved whatever he was grasping further under the pillow. 

‘’Baby what are you doing up?’’Sam groaned, his hair sticking out in every direction which would normally make you laugh. He caught sight of your scared eyes and climbed out of bed. 

‘’Bubby’’You whined again as he came up to you and placed his large, gentle hands under your arms before pulling you up to balance you on his hip. You rested your head against his broad shoulder as he turned his head and kissed your forehead. 

‘’Hmm’’He hummed, soothingly swaying you. ‘’What’s wrong, baby?’’He asked again. 

‘’Can’t sleep’’You mumbled, trying to clasp Sam’s shirt but dropping your bear in the process. You squirmed letting out a whine as Sam bent down and picked it up. 

‘’Alright, alright. Easy, I’ve got him’’Sam soothed, holding the bear in his other hand as you rested back against him. ‘’Okay, let’s get you some warm milk then you can stay with me, kay?’’He hummed as you nodded. 

He made his way out to the small motel kitchen before going to set you down on the work top but you started to whine again. ‘’Okay, okay’’He chuckled quietly, continuing to carry you in his arms as he opened the fridge and poured milk into your bottle before heating it up. 

He waited, jigging you about and stroking back your hair with his large hand before the microwave pinged. He took it out and waited for it to cool but you kept making grasping motions and squirming in his arms. 

‘’Not yet, baby. It’s not ready’’Sam yawned, resting his forehead against yours before he opened his eyes quickly and gave you a grin when you giggled. He pecked your forehead again and picked up the milk before shuffling you so you were lying down in his arms and he was carefully feeding you the milk. 

‘’What’s going on?’’ 

Sam jumped slightly, the bottle pulling away in his hand as he shuffled you back so you were on his hip again. You buried your head in his shoulder pitifully when you noticed it was your dad. 

‘’I’m just giving her some warm milk’’Sam shrugged, trying to stay brief as he talked to your dad. 

‘’Why?’’He edged on, his eyes flickering down to you. He was clearly still drunk. 

‘’Because she’s still awake dad’’Sam sighed, locking his jaw to keep himself from starting a argument in front of you. 

‘’She should learn to fall asleep on her own. How can she become a good hunter when you two are constantly babying her’’John growled. Sam scoffed, lips pulling down. 

‘’She’s four years old! She needs milk, she’s not fully grown yet’’Sam hissed.

‘’She can have coffee’’John rambled, swaying from his lack of soberness. Sam raised his brows, shaking his head as they started to yell at each other. You burst out crying. 

‘’Great! look’’Sam sighed, shuffling you so you were more secure and began to rock you again as he tried to sooth your cries. 

‘’She needs to learn so she can become a hunter!’’John repeated, his words slurring. 

‘’She’s a baby for heaven’s sake! I’m just doing the job that you’re supposed to be doing’’Sam growled lowly. 

‘’What the hell is going on out here’’Dean mumbled, his eyes now awake when he saw Sam and John looking like they were going to kill each other and a crying you in Sam’s arms. 

‘’De’’You squirmed, a look of hurt falling on Sam’s face. 

‘’You’ve frightened her, Sammy’’Dean explained, reaching out his arms and taking you. He rested you against his chest and patted your back softly whilst rocking you side to side. ‘’Shh. S’okay. They were both going back to bed’’He glared, motioning for both of them to go. 

It was finally just you and Dean alone as he walked back over to the kitchen when he spotted the milk and figured out that you probably couldn’t sleep again.

‘’Bet that was scary huh, Sweetheart’’Dean sighed, sympathising with you as you nodded. ‘’Yeah well you handle it well, you’re a tough cookie, Sweetie…well…not physically but you know’’Dean muttered. 

‘’Alright let’s get you some milk and then time to go to bed’’He cheered making you giggled. He carefully fed you the milk and you didn’t get half way before your eyes were slowly closing. You pushed away the bottle and Dean put the rest in the fridge before heading towards his and Sam’s shared room. 

‘’Wish I could have warm milk and a nap’’Dean chuckled before sliding over to his bed and letting you sleep on top of his chest like you always did he pulled the blanket over the both of you so you were warm and covered before gently patting your back in a sweet rhythm and humming ‘Hey Jude’ softly to you.

Your eyes began to drift as you felt him sigh heavily before lightly kissing your forehead and resting his chin against the crown of your head and keeping your securely against him.

“Aint nobody ever gonna hurt you. I won’t let them’'He mumbled, staring up at the ceiling, his hand beginning to rub circles on your tiny back. ’'I’m gonna protect you like I did with Sammy. Hunter or not you ain’t getting hurt but nobody’'Dean whispered.

Sam was secretly awake, smiling as he made a secret promise that he too would look after you and no matter what your dad said he would always baby you and be there for you at night whether you were 4 0r 20 years old. You would always be their baby sister and whatever monster that tried to hurt you would have to deal with your big brothers. 

“How shall I tell ye what it is, to feel the need of a place?”

he said softly. “The need of snow beneath my shoon. The breath of the mountains, breathing their own breath in my nostrils as God gave breath to Adam. The scrape of rock under my hand, climbing, and the sight of the lichens on it, enduring in the sun and the wind.” His breath was gone and he breathed again, taking mine. His hands were linked behind my head, holding me, face-to-face. “If I am to live as a man, I must have a mountain,” he said simply. His eyes were open wide, searching mine for understanding. -Drums Of Autumn

“I will arise and go now,” I said softly, “and go to Innisfree, and a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee, and live alone in the bee-loud glade.” I paused for a moment, and as I turned away, added in a whisper, “And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow.”

I made my way briskly down the path then; no need to apostrophize the ruins of the house, nor yet the white sow. I’d remember them without effort. As for the corncrib and hen coop—if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.
I could see the little gathering of horses, mules, and people moving in the slow chaos of imminent departure in front of the cabin. I wasn’t quite ready yet for goodbyes, though, and stepped into the wood to pull myself together.
The grass was long beside the trail, soft and feathery against the hem of my weighted skirts. Something heavier than grass brushed them, and I looked down to see Adso. I’d been looking for him most of yesterday; typical of him to show up at the last minute.
“So there you are,” I said, accusing. He looked at me with his huge calm eyes of celadon green, and licked a paw. On impulse, I scooped him up and held him against me, feeling the rumble of his purr and the soft, thick fur of his silvery belly.
He’d be all right; I knew that. The woods were his private game preserve, and Amy Higgins liked him and had promised me to see him right for milk and a warm spot by the fire in bad weather. I knew that.
“Go on, then,” I said, and set him on the ground. He stood for a moment, tail waving slowly, head raised in search of food or interesting smells, then stepped into the grass and vanished. I bent, very slowly, arms crossed, and shook, weeping silently, violently.
I cried until my throat hurt and I couldn’t breathe, then sat in the grass, curled into myself like a dried leaf, tears that I couldn’t stop dropping on my knees like the first fat drops of a coming storm. -An Echo In The Bone

“ICOULDN’T STOP BREATHING. From the moment we left the salt-marsh miasma of Savannah, with its constant fog of rice paddies, mud, and decaying crustaceans, the air had grown clearer, the scents cleaner—well, putting aside the Wilmington mudflats, redolent with their memories of crocodiles and dead pirates—spicier, and more distinct. And as we reached the summit of the final pass, I thought I might explode from simple joy at the scent of the late-spring woods, an intoxicating mix of pine and balsam fir, oaks mingling the spice of fresh green leaves with the must of the winter’s fallen acorns, and the nutty sweetness of chestnut mast under a layer of wet dead leaves, so thick that it made the air seem buoyant, bearing me up. I couldn’t get enough of it into my lungs. 

“If ye keep gasping like that, Sassenach, ye’re like to pass out,” Jamie said, smiling as he came up beside me. “I’ve brought ye home, Sassenach,” he said, his voice a little husky. “It willna be the same—and I canna say how things will be now—but I’ve kept my word.”

My throat was so choked that I could barely whisper “Thank you.” We stood for a long moment, clasped tight together, summoning up the strength to go around that last corner and look at what had been, and what might be.
Something brushed the hem of my skirt, and I looked down, expecting that a late cone from the big spruce we were standing by had fallen.
 A large gray cat looked up at me with big, calm eyes of celadon green and dropped a fat, hairy, very dead wood rat at my feet.
“Oh, God!” I said, and burst into tears. -Written In My Own Heart’s Blood

Originally posted by aniaarievilo

Overstimulation (Collaborative Preference)

REPOST: Michael and Ashton were written by Beth, and Luke and Calum by myself. You can find Cashton right here. B-dog and I have had this up our sleeve for a fair while now and we hope you like it.

So sit back, relax, slip your hand into your pants and enjoy! xxx


“I’m sorry,” he murmured once more, his hands rubbing me sensually. 

I knew he was sorry, I really did. I also knew that I liked the way he was touching me, and that if I didn’t let him off easy he’d beg for forgiveness with his fingers, mouth, cock- whatever it took. 

And all it took was a thirty minutes of the silent treatment, a sad pout, and pajamas of nothing but his shirt for me to be placed on top of the dresser coming undone on Michael’s tongue. I tugged on his hair, earning a hiss from him that was muffled as his faced was buried between my legs.

“Fuck, Mikey,” I breathed, giving his hair another tug and pulling him from me.

“So now you decide to talk to me?” he teased, standing to kiss my neck, his thigh between my legs.

As he sucked and bit marks onto my skin, I began to grind myself against his thigh, reveling in the way it felt against my hot, sensitivity. Michael let me ride against his leg for a few minutes, his hands on my lower back, pushing me to the very edge of the dresser so his thigh was the only thing holding me up, until my breath began to hitch as my second orgasm began to build. He scooped me up and quickly brought me to the bed, where he immediately lay down on his back, sitting me on his stomach. With a few playful taps on the butt and his hands nearly lifting my thighs to try to bring to his face, I realized what he wanted to do for me. Quickly, I scooted up his body until I straddled his face.

Michael craned his neck up to kiss and suck lightly at my clit as he began to finger me in the tight space between my heat and his mouth.  The boy knew what he was doing and soon I was hitting climax again, clenching around the two fingers Michael was slowly thrusting in and out of me.

Before I could move, Michael grabbed my waist and pulled me roughly down on his mouth, urging me to grind against him. I cried out as his tongue made quick work of my clit, occasionally dipping into me. His hands gripped my hips tightly, urging me to continue to grind myself onto his mouth without relent.

He began moaning softly, using the vibrations to get me off quicker. My mouth hung slack as I allowed myself to give in more than I ever had. High pitched moans and “fuck”s left my lips and I came once again, body trembling above Michael. He didn’t stop however, he still sucked on my clit and despite the slow build of discomfort, I was pining for more, loving the way my climaxes felt. He kept me above him, steadying me with his hands as my legs gave out, resulting in me fully sitting on his face as I felt another orgasm hit me. And, then not soon after another until I was spent and begging for his relent.


I knew that the sight of me squirming and crying out underneath him turned him on beyond belief, let alone the rush that he felt from having control over me and prolonging my pleasure. But he kept this to himself for the most part, until one night I was just coming down from my orgasm caused by him using his marvellous fingers, and he didn’t seem to be stopping.

“L-Luke.” I whimpered, my trembling hands reaching down to slow his actions. “Too much.”

He smirked up at me from between my legs and shook his head slowly from side to side.

“Try and take it.” He spoke huskily, his index and middle fingers pumping in and out of my tight entrance and curling upwards on each thrust forth. He brought his mouth onto me as well, working his tongue against my oversensitive clit and my body convulsing in response. Despite his innocent appeal, Luke had an absolute dominance about him that would come out from time to time; like a hold-you-down and pull-on-your-hair dominance that was a turn on beyond belief.

“Fuck.” I cried out, Luke’s free hand grasping both of my wrists and using them to his advantage by placing them on my pelvis and holding me down. “I can’t Luke.” I said honestly, the pleasure overwhelming me as my eyes clamped shut.

“Yes you can.” He stated firmly, a relentlessness to his voice that drove me insane. He kept pushing me through my sensitivity until I felt the unfamiliar second rise of my high, then leaning down to kiss my neck and groaning as my scent drove his senses wild. Hovering his lips over my ear, he whispered all of the things that he wanted to do to me, making them as filthy as he liked because he knew I wouldn’t be able to recall half of what he said due to the overwhelming pleasure. He pumped harder, milking my spot so much that my legs quaked and breath hitched.

“I-I-” I cut myself off with a gasp as he curled them with a particular force.

“I know. I can feel you.” He pumped impossibly faster and harder, me dripping for him. “Come again.” He breathed over my ear, then pulling back to watch as I fell apart. My mind went blank as I was once more hurled into a world of complete ecstasy, toes curling and fingers searching for something to grip onto before settling for the sheets beside me. I didn’t even realise how loud I was screaming his name, my muscles contracting and releasing mercilessly as his digits gradually slowed inside of me.

He finally gave me a break and made sure that I’d recovered from his little game before taking me again, but this time slow and steady; a complete different Luke from just five minutes before.

Hyena Fact of the Week!

Spotted hyenas have a very high rate of parental investment compared to many other predators. Milk produced by spotted hyenas is nearly 15% protein and 14% fat - only sea otters and some types of bears produce milk that has higher percentages of protein and fat - and cubs are not weaned off of their mother’s milk until they are 12 to 16 months old.

Spotted hyenas also have a rather long juvenile period compared to other hunters when the younger members of the clan are taught to hunt and learn their place. It isn’t until around 18 months old that a hyena has reached full independence, and sexual maturity isn’t until 21-24 months.

Additionally, female hyenas are more protective of their female offspring and will intervene in fights and put on aggressive displays on their behalf, and there is a higher rate of social behavior and sharing food among related females. Female offspring also inherit their mother’s position in the clan hierarchy and usually stay in their natal clan while males may sometimes leave to find new mates.

Roadhouse Rage

Requested: {Hi, can you do a one shot where you’re a hunter who’s been dating Dean for a while, and he decides to introduce you to Ellen Jo and Ash, and Jo ends ups disliking you because she’s jealous that Dean loves you? Thanks!}

Note: I hope you like it! Thank you so much for requesting this, it was fun to write:)

Characters: Dean x Reader, Ellen, Jo, Ash

Word Count: 1810

Warnings: none

“It’s just a few more miles.”

“Hey, I’m good. Those Milk Duds hit the spot.” Dean grins as I pat my belly, pretending to look bloated. Despite the fourteen hour drive, it has been a fun trip. Relaxing and uneventful, both of which are words hardly ever used in our lives.

“You’re gonna love the place. And Ellen- you’re gonna love Ellen.”

“Just hope she likes me.” I toy with a piece of frayed leather from my seat, feeling those butterflies awaken in my stomach again. I had been putting off this trip for months now, ever since Dean had suggested I mean his ‘extended family’, and they meet me. I’ve heard way too much about them to not be nervous, and I know how much Dean looks up to them.

“They’re gonna love you, okay?” Dean reaches over and pats my knee. “Don’t worry about it.”

Easier said than done, but I give him a smile and force myself to focus on the positive. What’s the worst thing that can happen? They hate me and we move on. But will their opinion change how Dean feels about me? My stomach twists at the thought.

We have been dating for nearly six months, but of course we’ve known each other for much longer. After a hunt gone wrong, we’d joined forces and become a team. Shortly after that, Dean and I had started dating, and I have a feeling that it’s getting to be very serious. Hence this long drive to meet these people.

A few minutes later, and the Roadhouse comes into view. It’s daytime, so there’s only two trucks parked outside. The front door and windows are open to let in the fresh air. Dean parks the Impala outside and turns to me with a big smile on his face.

“Are you ready?”

“I feel like I’m meeting the parents.”

“Relax, it’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say.” I mutter, climbing out of the car. Dean walks around and takes my hand securely in his. I’m grateful for his support. We walk up to the building and step inside. There’s only two customers, two guys, sitting at the bar quietly drinking beers together.

An older woman is cleaning shot glasses with a white cloth, her dark brown hair falling past her shoulders. She turns at the sound of footsteps and a slow smile causes her brown eyes to crinkle.

“Dean Winchester, as I live and breathe.”

“Hya, Ellen.”

Ellen comes around the counter and wraps Dean in a hug. It’s quite touching to see someone care about Dean in that way. Ellen seems to have assumed the motherly role in his life, and I’m glad.

“Jo! Look who’s here!”

A blonde headed girl comes in through a back door. Once she sees who it is, she runs across the room and throws her arms around Dean. This is less touching then watching Ellen. While Jo is much younger, I can sense a fondness in her being that goes beyond sisterly love. Warning bells go off in my brain, but I remind myself not to judge and that they are just friends.

“Alright, Jo, don’t squeeze him to death.” Ellen laughs.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?” Jo playfully punches Dean on the shoulder, smiling up at him.

“Just decided at the last minute. Plus I wanted to surprise you.” Dean turns and smiles, directing their attention to me. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet-”

“Dean! Good to see you, old buddy.” A middle aged man steps into the room, and judging by his hairstyle, I figure this is Ash. He slaps Dean on the back.

“Hey, Ash.”

“You’re just in time. Little bird told me about a case down in Virginia, sounds just like-”

“Ash,” Ellen cuts in, looking exasperated. “Dean didn’t come alone.”

“Sure, sure, Sam can help too.”

“No, idiot,” Jo’s eyes are narrowed as she looks at me. “He brought her.”

Dean steps away from them and puts an arm around my shoulders. “This is Y/N Y/L/N, my girlfriend.”

Ash gives a low whistle, which makes my face burn. “Boy, you snagged yourself a nice one.”

“Mind your manners.” Ellen extends her hand to me, which I shake firmly. “Good to see Dean’s finally found himself someone. I take it you’re a hunter.”

“Oh yes,” I give Dean’s hand a squeeze. “I love hunting. Deer, moose, bears….”

At the surprise and fear in their eyes, I hurriedly continue, “I’m just kidding! Yes, I am a hunter, been one all my life.”

Dean is laughing at the relief on all of their faces. Well, not all. Jo has a look on her face that reminds me of sucking on lemons.

“And she has humor.” Ellen smiles then. “Good job, Dean. Come on and sit down. Y’all hungry?”

“For your cooking, always.”

Ellen goes to the kitchen, while the rest of us sit down at a booth. Dean and I on one side, with Ash and Jo on the other. Despite my previous decision to give Jo the benefit of the doubt, I can’t help but feel uneasy as I watch her look at Dean. Like he’s some kind of prize and she’s set on winning it. He’s oblivious to it, thank goodness.

“So how did you two…” Ash waggles a finger between the two of us.

“Meet? Well, that’s a story- do you want to tell it or should I?”

“Oh, you go ahead.” It warms my heart to see Dean so happy and at ease. He goes into the tale- which is really just that, a fable and hardly close to what actually happened. I don’t mind. Dean’s version is much more exciting.

Ash gets a few laughs out of the story, and Jo echoes his enjoyment, but it’s forced. She ignores me completely, focusing only on Dean. By the end of the story, Ellen returns with steaming plates of food. It is the best food I’ve ever tasted.

“Mrs. Harvelle, Dean told me you were a good cook, but he didn’t do you justice. This is terrific.”

Ellen smiles and I think her chest lifts a little in pride. “Glad you like it. I’d give you the recipe, but it’s an old family secret and meant to stay in the family. Maybe if you and Dean…”

I turn to Dean, clasping my hands together in a beseeching gesture, “Will you marry me? I HAVE to have that recipe!”

Everyone laughs, except for Jo. She is finally looking at me, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. I try to give her a smile, but she looks away. Maybe I can talk to her later.

When everyone’s done eating, Ellen starts to clear the table and I hurry to help.

“You don’t have to do that.” Ellen says, waving me off. “Jo can help me.”

“No, really, I’d like to help.” I stack a few dishes and carry them into the kitchen. Ellen and Jo follow, filling the sink with hot, soapy water. Mother washes while daughter dries, so I go back out to get more dirty dishes.

As I come back with an armload, I can hear the ladies’ voices getting louder as their conversation picks up.

“I don’t care how you feel about it, it’s done.” Ellen’s voice sounds tired and frustrated. “They’re happy together. It’s mean to be, there’s an end to it.”

“Come on, Mom, we don’t know anything about her. You’re just going to let Dean fall in love with someone who could probably be a siren or a demon?”

“Joanna, that’s enough. She’s not a siren and she as heck ain’t a demon. Dean’s smarter than that. Now this needs to stop. Besides, Dean is much older than you are.”

I sigh and take a few steps back so they won’t know I was eavesdropping. I shift the dishes so they clank, then walk into the kitchen. Jo refuses to meet my gaze, but Ellen offers me a smile.

“Will you and Dean be staying in town tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a motel down the road.”

“How long will you be staying?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask Dean.”

Jo slaps the dish rag onto the counter and storms out of the room.

“Jo Harvelle!” Ellen calls after her, but it does no good. She sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry about that. Don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

I’m not one to beat around the bush. I like clearing the air and settling things as soon as possible. Less drama that way. I mutter something about being right back and head in the direction Jo had. I find her outside, tossing rocks at an old shed across the yard. Judging by the force used to hurl those stones, I figure she’s seeing me and not the shed as her target.

“Hey, Jo.” She ignores me and picks up another rock. “Can we talk?”

“I have anything to say to you.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that clear.”

“What do you want?” She turns and faces me, her expression wrinkled in a frown. She would be so pretty and cute if she’d learn to smile.

“I want to talk. Let’s see, what could we talk about? Oh, I know, let’s talk about how cold it was back in the Roadhouse. Or who those rocks are really meant for.” I have to work hard to keep my tone free of sarcasm. Experience has taught me not many people respond well to it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Jo, sure you do. You like Dean, I get it.”

Jo’s eyes narrow. “You don’t know what you’re-”

“Yeah, I do. You’ve got a crush on Dean, and everyone knows it. It was cute for a while, now it’s not. He’s moved on and found someone else. You need to do the same, Jo.”

“You have no right- no idea what’s going on!” Jo looks ready to cry and, really, that’s the last thing I want. “You don’t understand!”

“Sure I do. I went through the same thing when I was your age. And I can’t fault you for taste. But Dean is a lot older than you, and honestly? he thinks of you as his sister.”

“That’s not true. We’ve done a lot together, been through a lot. He just needs a little time to figure it out.”

“Sweetie, he has figured it out. And he’s moved on. He’s got me.”

“Not if I have anything to say about that.”


-Calum Hood Smut-

That was it. I’d waited all day for Calum to get home and relieve me of the tension that he’d been building all day with his flirtatious text messages. ‘Ridiculously hard for you right now.’ ’ But I couldn’t any longer. He hadn’t stopped talking about how badly he wanted me and about all of the things he planned on doing to me once he got home, which he failed to mention wouldn’t be anywhere before 12pm, the current time. I only had so much self-restraint, and he’d pushed me past that point, the throbbing between my legs now the only thing on my mind.

I slipped off my summer dress and black bra, dropping them beside our bed as I crawled onto it on all fours. I readjusted the decorative pillows and flipped over so that my back was cushioned and propped up against the headboard. Sliding my underwear down my freshly shaven legs, I could clearly see in the light how much my arousal had dampened the fabric, and only wished that Cal could have been there to see what he’d done to me. I tossed the delicate piece of clothing in the direction of my other discarded garments, focused on only one thing. Though I didn’t mind servicing myself once in a while, I would always prefer to have Calum there, teasing and testing me before fulfilling my every desire. I brought my slim fingers to graze the area from my entrance to the very top of my clit, shuddering at the contact. It was like water after a drought. With the band being so busy these days, I could still spend a fair amount of time with Calum; it was just rare that we were alone, which limited the occasions on which Calum could have his way with me. And I have mine with him.

I trailed my arousal over the rest off myself, my fingers now sliding effortlessly over and around the sensitive area between my folds. My body relaxed into the bed as the aching in my groin began to subside gradually and convert to pure pleasure. I exhaled heavily as I increased the pressure of my fingers slightly, now working myself with one hand and bringing the other up to my erect nipples. I traced circles around the right before pinching it, moaning at my own merciless torment. Swapping to my left side, I repeated my actions and caused goosebumps to erupt over my skin.

My breath was coming out short and fast now, light moans slipping my lips occasionally. I soon needed more and slipped a finger into myself before removing it teasingly. I eased it back in, drawing it upwards slightly to pull against the sensitive spot on my front wall. I slipped in a second finger, the pleasure and pain of the stretch pushing me closer to the edge. My speed increased with my breathing, and before long I was moaning out Calum’s name, picturing him and what he was capable of doing to me. As the pressure that had been building in my core intensified, I gripped onto the bed sheets, my knuckles turning white. My eyes screwed shut and I threw my head back in anticipation of my orgasm consuming me completely.

Suddenly I heard someone clear their throat, my fingers ceasing their actions and my eyes snapping open to see Calum leaning against the door frame, smirking.

“Calum.” I puffed, doing my best to cover my so obviously turned on body. He pushed himself from the doorway and began walking towards me.

“Oh, please, don’t stop on my account.“ He said, sauntering over to the side of the bed and looking down at me. My chest heaved up and down as my thoughts were clouded by lust. "Lost for words?” He spoke cockily. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself so much you couldn’t keep quiet.”

“Not half as much as when it’s you doing it Cal.” I replied instinctively, surprised at my own forwardness. He raised his eyebrows and smirked again.

“Is that so?” He asked smugly. Calum used his other hand to spread my legs open to him as he brought the pads of his middle and index fingers to rub over my clit. I was still so close to coming undone that my body convulsed and breath hitched as he touched me. “Sensitive.” He murmured to himself. I looked up to his tanned face, which was now close to my own with him sitting on the bed next to me.“That’s good.” Calum used my arousal as lubrication for one of his large fingers to pump in and out of me, getting me worked up for the second time that evening. His hands were much bigger than mine, and he’d come to know my body even better than I did. This combination was lethal, and I stood no chance against his skilled movements.

“God.” I whimpered, my nails now digging into his jean clad thigh. “Sorry.” I squeaked out as I realised just how hand I was clutching his leg.

“Don’t be.” He groaned. “I like it.” He pushed in a second digit, the girth stretching me further than my own two fingers, but not quite as much as his cock did all of the times he’d fucked me absolutely raw. Knowing now that I was free to pain him all I liked, my hand clawed at the denim over his thigh even harder. Cal’s thumb rolled over my clit, his fingers pumping so deeply that I could almost feel his knuckles at my entrance. He leant down to me as he milked my g-spot, his breath washing over my face. I closed my eyes and pouted, leaning forwards for a kiss, but surprisingly Calum didn’t meet my lips. My eyelids fluttered open to see that he’d pulled back from me and was surveying my reaction. It was strangely erotic that he was denying me such a simple and innocent pleasure, but was giving me so much more elsewhere.

“Fuck, Calum.” I subtly bucked my hips, partially to escape his relentless actions, partially to gain more pleasure from them. Calum’s opposite hand came to sit on my waist, his forearm holding down my restless hips. His lips lingered over mine once more, him pulling away as I craned my neck forward for just one peck; which I was again disallowed.

“You like that.” He stated firmly, his eyes still scanning every inch of my body. “You’re squeezing down on my fingers each time I do it.” His pointing out of my desire to submit hit me like a ton of bricks, and my body shook under his firm hold on me as begun to fall apart. He picked up the pace of his fingers and brought his face to my neck, kissing and sucking as I reached my high.

“Can I come?” I whimpered softly.


Calum.” Needier this time.

“No. You can beg better than that.” His fingers didn’t cease their actions once.

“Please Calum. I need to come.” I was almost ashamed of how desperate I was allowing myself to sound.

“Convince me Y/N.” His words fuelled me into uttering my next sentence in a breathless whine.

“Calum please may I come for you all over your fingers?”

The half a moment of silence that followed seemed to last an age.

“Go on. Come princess.” He permitted.

“Cal-” I choked out before being cut of by my breath catching in my throat as pleasure shot from my core throughout my body. My orgasm, which had been building since almost half an hour ago washed over me, my back arching and mind going blank. I then called out Calum’s name as my legs trembled and whole body tingled. Calum helped me ride out my orgasm as he worked me until I became sensitive to the touch and he removed his fingers.

He finally leant forward and kissed me, his lips soft against my own. His affection was much more appreciated now that I’d released the arousal that I’d so desperately needed to. Perhaps this was why he’d waited to kiss me, knowing how distracted I would have been prior to my shattering finish. I pulled back, a relaxed smile on my face as I fell to the bed and rested my head on one of the pillows. He lay down next to me, sucking and swirling his tongue around his fingers before he kissed me again to let me taste myself. He pulled back with a smirk on his face.

“Good?” He asked, to which I replied with an affirmative moan. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you Cal.” I breathed exhaustedly. “I couldn’t.”

“So impatient.” He tutted.

“I am not! You were the one telling me how much you wanted me.” I retaliated, shifting so that my naked body was facing his clothed body; me looking him in the eyes.

“Speaking of which, did you need me to give you a hand?” I asked reaching down to his crotch as he smiled at my unintentional double entendre. I was surprised to find that he was only semi-hard, and was borderline insecure that our fun hadn’t turned him on a bit more.

“I might’ve already done that.” Cal said biting his lip.

“What? When?” I asked puzzled.

“It was a bloody long day of recording Y/N, and you were being just as suggestive as I was, in case you don’t remember missy.” Calum begun. “I guess I’m not so patient either.”

“Where Cal?” I questioned, amused and pleased at the effect that I’d proven to have on him.

“At the studio.” He smirked.

“No. Come on Calum, seriously?” I asked doubtfully, genuinely wanting to know now.

“I’m telling the truth. With the fantasies I have about you babe, it only takes a 5 minute bathroom break.” My eyes widened at his confession, my crotch stirring with arousal again at the thought of him with his back against the cubicle door, eyes shut, sweat lining his brow and bicep pumping himself furiously.

“You didn’t.” I challenged.

“I did.” He shot back.

“Oh my goodness Calum.” I hit him on the arm playfully before he pulled me towards him, helping me shuffle my weak body so that my bum was against his crotch and my back against his chest.

“It’s your fault darling.” He said, his warm breath on my neck. He kissed my hair before snuggling me closer to him and whispering in my ear. “You drive me crazy.”

The Distance Between | Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons | 3,279 words | G

As Jemma heads back to work in the lab, Fitz is forced to do the one thing he wants to do least: give her some space.

@omgfitzsimmons challenged me to write a fic less than 3,500 words long. I just made it. Go me. Thanks to @ardentaislinn and @fitzsimmmonsy for betaing.

Read below or on AO3

Fitz could not be trusted to make a good judgment call.

Bobbi had done everything but put a line of tape down the middle of the lab, designating which was his side and which was Jemma’s for the foreseeable future. “You have to let her do her own thing, Fitz,” she had said, blue eyes irritatingly full of compassion and concern. Bloody kind-hearted person made of warmth and empathy. “She’s got to be able to do her work without you being two steps behind her. And you need to do yours!” She was immune to his death glares—and why wouldn’t she be, she’d been married to Hunter of all people—and just told him, “Look, you’ll be in the same room if she really needs you, and you know her, you’ll know when that time is. Just give Simmons a chance to work through some things for herself without you hovering all of the time.”

Hmph. That was a lot coming from someone so tall they could hover from across the room. The remaining logical parts of Fitz knew she was right, knew he had stumbled and faltered the most at his recovery when he had felt watched, under a microscope of scrutiny by people who expected him to do better. It wasn’t that he expected Jemma to be okay—he was fully sure that she would not be—he just wanted to be there, to be supportive.

But the next day, he told her to go to the lab without him after he cleaned up breakfast. Jemma raised a curious eyebrow at him and offered to help, but Fitz shooed her away. Clean break, he told himself as he watched her walk away, gathering their plates to put in the dishwasher. And even though he knew it was an exaggeration, it felt like sending her off to war.

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If you’re going to be up late studying for finals or whatever you need to be prepared and this is the ultimate drink:
Make your regular cup of coffee BUT add in a few bits of dark chocolate [mine was 87% cocoa yum!]. Don’t add sugar unless you can’t take your coffee without sugar. Add a spot of milk and you’re good to go.
The coffee keeps you awake and alert but the chocolate de-stresses you as well increases focus making you 100% more qualified to do your late night research paper with quality bullshitting rather than crappy bullshitting. The sugar does increase your energy but it also makes you sort of “jumpy” so avoid. You could replace it with natural sweetness or coconut sugar tho(: